Another Look
by Darkwolvine
Summary: Aragorn-Legolas friendship story. On a night out near Mirkwood, trouble makes itself known.
1. Brooding and Spiders

Author: Wolf (darkwolvine@y...)  
  
Rating: PG-13 (possible change, but highly improbable)  
  
Spoilers: Maybe some book stuff I'm not noticing as I write, but I  
  
wouldn't think so.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or the world. All of  
  
it belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Written for enjoyment only.  
  
Warnings: Unorthodox Legolas... and now that I think of it...  
  
Unorthodox Aragorn too.  
  
Author's Notes: The title is as much for the fic itself as for the position of the fic in the order of things. I mean that in the way that I'm taking up another look at the history between Aragorn and Legolas. I'm assuming that they meet much later in life, when Aragorn is... I'd say about... 70? Old anyway. *g* Legolas's age is never mentioned in the books, Jackson's team has it figured to be around 3000 years old or  
  
such, after the alliance war. I figured from the way Legolas speaks  
  
in some parts of the books, such as when he notices light and  
  
beautiful things as they enter dark times, that he was either young,  
  
or sindarin. *giggles* I decided he oughta be both.  
  
This is a Work In Progress which means there could be unpredicted  
  
delays between the parts, depending upon inspiration and time.  
  
It's also unbeta-ed, and I am not that big on looking for my own mistakes, please be as forgiving as possible.  
  
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Another Look  
  
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Beautiful, that's what she was. So very beautiful...  
  
It seemed impossible. Before he saw her, he would never have imagined such beauty. By all rights, she shouldn't look at him twice. He wasn't worth attention from those amazingly deep, beautiful eyes.  
  
Oh but how he craved, lived on that feeling. He lived as though she were forever watching. As impossible and vain as it was to do so, he hoped.  
  
Aragorn wasn't a man who wanted, or needed a lot of things to survive. Or even to live. He had his sword, his cloak, and he could manage without the rest. He could enjoy life, solitude, beauty, without so much as a warm meal or comfortable bed for the night. He could admire the wilderness, the power of nature, enjoy the soft caress of the wind on his face, of the rain. He was pleased by occasional company, he found himself amused by other humans and humbled in the presence of the elven kind.  
  
He could laugh with any race, speak any language, love any kind.  
  
But he could also go without all this.  
  
He could live under the harshest circumstances. He could survive the long dark and desolated desert of Mordor. He could hide under the very eyes seeking him, be they Haradrim, Rohirrim, Gondorian, even Noldor or Sindarin. He could be invisible, merciless, swift and deadly as any elf. He could live for months with no company but his own. He could sleep with one eye open for as long as he required it of his body. He could endure torment greater than any, for his body was conditioned to the exhaustion and pain that comes from traveling and being wounded.  
  
He could talk circles around mostly everyone, he could hide his identity and he could be colder than ice when the need arose.  
  
What he couldn't do however, was live without her image, lulling him to sleep, accompanying him into the darkest places of the worlds he visited. No matter how deep he became Thorongil the Captain, Strider the Ranger, Ælric the Rider, he could always be Estel for her.  
  
- Thinking, ranger?  
  
The voice startled him, but he had enough sense not to show it. He didn't think an answer was required however.  
  
- About her I presume?  
  
A smile crept up, the curling of the ranger's lips unnoticeable to anyone but the one addressing him.  
  
- You know me too well Mellon.  
  
- You brood more than the Noldor. Which, considering where you were raised, isn't much of a surprise.  
  
- Are you saying Imladris is somber?  
  
- Nay, nay, far from it. It is... austere. Beautiful. As any sorrow ought to be. You did lighten it up quite a lot as a child.  
  
Another reluctant smile from the ranger. Such is the way of the elves, contradictions that agree with each other.  
  
- As a child only? Would you be insinuating that my rare brooding moods now make me boring?  
  
- Elves don't insinuate.  
  
- It seems to me that it is all they do.  
  
- You are human.  
  
A chuckle this time. Aragorn knew that his companion was trying to distract him from his dark mood. He didn't know whether he should indulge in being nursed to joy any more than what he had already allowed.  
  
Before he could formulate deeper thought on the subject, he found himself distracted by the elf accompanying him. Legolas was acting rather strange...  
  
- I thought that would indeed get your attention.  
  
- Hugging trees is not that far-fetched for you mellonin.  
  
The slight huffing of Legolas' chest told him all he needed to know. Elves... the wisest and fairest beings of all, basking in their glory, unused to being questioned or pushed down from their pedestals.  
  
It was almost amusing enough to make the ranger forget his mood.  
  
Almost.  
  
- You are very human, ranger.  
  
- Thank you.  
  
- That wasn't a compliment you know.  
  
- I do.  
  
- You are trying to make me react in an inappropriate way.  
  
- I am.  
  
An exasperated sigh. The ranger hid a smile. He'd learned the art from the very best. And Sindarin elves, always so happily dancing and singing, had no concern for subtlety games, or the art of annoying others.  
  
Aragorn didn't think the Noldor preoccupied themselves with it either. Only Peredhil, then.  
  
He turned to look at the elf for the first time since they started conversing. The look on the Elf's face was quite priceless. Aragorn was certain his eyes were dancing with merriment, but he kept his features serious and sombre.  
  
The elf was obviously frustrated with him. But also amused and trying to hide it. Aragorn was glad that this elf in particular had not quite had the time, or the concern to work on the capacity to hide his feelings.  
  
He silently blessed the Valar that such innocence hadn't been robbed from the elf.  
  
- Fine. Be a Peredhil.  
  
- I shall.  
  
Merry laughter greeted his answer, he found himself responding before he could think about things too much.  
  
- That is a problem of yours, ranger. You think too much.  
  
With a chuckle, Aragorn gave up brooding for the night and he rose, ready to be as merry and mischievous as his wont would let him.  
  
As he dusted himself off from the dirty ground where he had been sitting, he noticed the elf beside him freezing, all movement stopped. Alarm spread through the both of them as their eyes met. Legolas for what he was no doubt hearing, and Aragorn for what he was seeing in the elf's stance and face.  
  
Danger.  
  
Aragorn knew better than to speak up and dumbly ask what was coming. He simply drew his sword and waited for the elf to signal fight or flight.  
  
- Spiders.  
  
- Are we surrounded?  
  
- I believe so.  
  
Fight it was then. He drew closer to his companion, raising the sword at a ready. He was hearing them now. There were many of them. And they were very close.  
  
He gave a silent prayer for the Valar to keep his companion safe through the fight, a short one for himself, and as the first beast surged through the foliage, he swung his sword vertically, slashing its head nearly in two.  
  
He heard Legolas cursing for his inability to use his bow in such close quarters and with no opportunity to climb and gain leverage.  
  
Aragorn resolved to keep an eye on him at all times, but it soon became impossible as the spiders were many and obviously less stupid than orcs. They were working at separating them, attacking from the centre and off to push the companions further away from each other as they swept and slashed and killed.  
  
As Aragorn cut off another spider leg reaching for him, he resumed that they were succeeding and cursed loudly. He has lost sight of his friend. Worry gnawed at him and he made more moves to look for his friend than to attack the enemy.  
  
More spiders were massing around him for his lack of aggression. They were slowly working him back towards a rocky surface he knew he couldn't climb without losing focus.  
  
Spiders were definitely brighter than orcs.  
  
He quickly refocused his attention on slashing his way out of the trap he was walking straight into, but the spiders sensed their quarry too close and more came to the screeching beasts' help.  
  
The ranger felt something slash at his leg and he cursed again, decapitating the spider clutching at his limb with one swift move. It had pierced the skin. Which probably meant venom.  
  
He needed to get to safety before it took hold.  
  
But with more and more spiders coming his way, and Legolas... Gods where was Legolas?  
  
Aragorn focused more on defending himself than attacking, not only because those moves took less energy, but also because with the number of spiders attacking, an aggressive move would leave too much opening. And that would doubtlessly bring his death.  
  
He felt the fatigue, the urge to fall asleep on his feet. Just let everything go and sleep.  
  
But he would not allow it. For his sake and Legolas's.  
  
He tried to block another aggressive slash of the enemy, but the move was too sloppy and weighted down by fatigue. He had been fighting for too long, with too much venom in his veins... Staggering under the blow, he fell back against the rock that meant he was at the spiders' mercy. His sword fell from nerveless fingers. Aragorn had no idea the poison could work so fast...  
  
Another slash across his now unprotected chest, and yet another on his stomach, he fell to his knees, dizzy and disoriented. Fighting the urge to retch, he grabbed the hilt of his sword on the ground and steeled his resolve. He would not fall to this.  
  
His eyes took on a glazed look and his consciousness fled his failing body, instinct taking over. Aragorn pushed his body beyond the limit, he was capable of doing this, but he knew if no good came out of this very quickly, he'd be dead very soon. The sword moved as if alive, cutting through spider after spider, Aragorn was killing and killing, letting the bloodlust take over.  
  
There came a time when there was nothing moving in the forest. Aragorn stood, dazed, before looking around for any sign of his friend, hoping against hope that he was safe. That he would not have to announce a death, that he would enjoy again the light and pleasing company of such a good friend.  
  
He thought he saw a glimpse of golden hair to his right. Taking a step in that direction, Aragorn promptly passed out.  
  
End part 1 


	2. Cocoon

Author's notes: Alright, the spider stuff in there is researched, yes. But I'm not sure if it applies to Tolkien's world. Maybe it'll help some of you overcome the fear of spiders to know they can't actually eat you *wink* Think 'The Fly' yeah?  
  
Warning: no Legolas in this chapter. He's in it about as much as Arwen in the first chapter, buuuuuut! He's coming. I've also noticed that I'm mixing up some of the pre-knowledge of fanfiction in. And I apologise for it. I take for granted that Elladan, Elrohir and Aragorn were always close, and that Aragorn does get himself in a lot of trouble on his own. But the point of the fic is... he's quite capable of surviving on his own as well.  
  
For full disclaimer, check part 1.  
  
***************  
  
Another Look  
  
***************  
  
Sense came back slowly, true awareness hovering close by but still out of reach. He could hear things, but he could not move, or will his eyes open.  
  
- When are we to eat him? He killed enough of us! And he looks tasty!  
  
Maybe awareness wasn't such a good thing under the circumstances. But he knew not to indulge in rest too long, for it could be costly. He wrenched himself out of the darkened foils of sleep, to meet the harsh reality with a muffled gasp.  
  
He willed himself to be silent. It would not do to bring attention to himself. Aragorn bit through his lip, tasting the blood, as he tried to ignore his body's many aches and his mind's screeches of danger. All in good time.  
  
Opening his eyes, he almost gave into panic as all he saw around him was blackness. He quickly regained control on himself and tested out his other limbs.  
  
He came to one ugly conclusion. He was in a cocoon.  
  
He was completely immobilized. Panic seized hold of his mind, memories of bonds and violence and screaming in the darkness, pain and blood, deaths all around him when he couldn't move an inch.  
  
Past. All in the past. He viciously pushed the memories back and focused on his situation. He gave himself very practical tasks to occupy his mind, trying to determine if the spiders had removed all his weapons before... paralysing him. At the thought, he pushed back another surge of fear and panic. It would not do to lose focus and condemn himself because of an irrational fear.  
  
Aragorn wriggled as best he could to reach the knife he kept close to his breast. He could feel its shape against his chest but doubted he could ever reach it; his movements were too restrained by the web.  
  
He kept trying to grasp it, even though he knew he would probably never manage it. Idle thoughts ran through his mind as his body strived on getting itself free. First and foremost, where was Legolas? Aragorn dearly hoped nothing had happened to him. He was not meant for the harshness of the evil weaving itself around Mirkwood or any other part of the world. No Elf should have to confront this evil, no elf should ever be tainted by it.  
  
From the moment he'd met the elf, Aragorn had been drawn to him. His joy and easy-going nature. These beings weren't meant for sorrow, or pain. Legolas even more than any other elf. He'd accepted the human without so much as a scowl, innocently believing in the goodness of all beings on Arda. He had immense respect for the living beings of this earth. He didn't harbour hate, or dark feelings of any sort. And  
  
that was as it should be. Legolas was the elf of all elves. He represented what the elves should be were they not touched by the darkness and evil of this world. And Aragorn would give his life before he saw such purity tainted. He would give his very soul to protect this precious friend.  
  
Which is why he HAD to work his way out of this blasted cocoon if he was to be of any help.  
  
Even as the thought crossed his mind, he scolded himself for it. Legolas was as capable a fighter as he was.  
  
He was behaving like Elladan. Overprotecting those who could well defend themselves.  
  
Once he established that, he decided to let the matter rest until he could find Legolas.  
  
Which, considering the present state of affairs, wouldn't be anytime soon.  
  
He had managed to drag one arm closer, surprisingly enough. His arm muscles were nearly cramped up with the effort it took to move his arm from his side to his stomach. The blood stained his fingers as they rested on the wound and he winced, pushing back the pain. Very nearly there... He focused on moving the arm under the clothing, hoping that the web would not stick to his clothes as much as his bare forearm.  
  
The tip of his fingers were now touching the handle of the weapon. He gave himself a mental applause and tried to secure the weapon in his grip. He felt he was just about to close his hand on the weapon when he was jostled out of his concentration.  
  
He'd nearly forgotten about the spiders.  
  
- Looks like the little man's awake.  
  
- We can eat him now, right?  
  
- Yes, it's time.  
  
Aragorn's eyes widened and he felt the web around him shift, the wound he'd upset on his stomach hurt anew as Aragorn tensed up. He knew how spiders ate. They couldn't eat any tissue. They spewed out some sort of acidic liquid which dissolved their victims in a matter of seconds. Then the spiders were free to drink them up.  
  
With a shudder, Aragorn finally closed his hand on the knife.  
  
He felt the web close to his left hand getting hotter, and then he felt the burn of acid as it pierced through the web to his hand.  
  
He muffled a scream and finally, finally cut through the web surrounding him with one swift move.  
  
Taking in the situation, he ignored the new and old pains, focusing on finding a way out. Surrounded by spiders. Again.  
  
It got old really fast.  
  
He sprang to his feet, narrowly avoiding another acidic spittle. Running to the nearest tree, Aragorn cursed the pain in his leg, and prayed that it not give out under him.  
  
There was no way out. At least a dozen spiders around him, more behind. He was weakened and unarmed except for the knife.  
  
No problem. He'd faced worse odds before.  
  
Right?  
  
As the spiders recovered from the shock of seeing their dinner run away, the closest one jumped at him, no doubt hoping to tackle him and be done with the troublesome meal.  
  
Aragorn ducked and rolled to his left, then sprang up, ready to face the rest.  
  
One came at him directly and Aragorn tried to hold it back using his right hand on its ugly head, two fingers piercing the eyes. He used that handle to jump over the next spider, rolling as he touched the ground, narrowly avoiding another one.  
  
As he rolled, he grabbed onto a fallen tree limb and, swinging it around, he managed to clear the area around himself long enough to see salvation.  
  
Without another second's thought, he leapt for the opening. One spider managed to graze his side as he passed right between her legs.  
  
He grabbed onto a tree branch, ready to haul himself up and eventually, reach the top of the spider's cave. He deemed himself lucky that they hadn't dragged him inside. And that they seemed stupid enough to choose such a place. It was obvious to him that the rock settlement sitting on top of the cave was very unstable. A dwarf had taught him that every rock surface has a weakness, and that, once that weakness is found, it only needs miserable force to crumble it.  
  
Miserable force was all Aragorn had left.  
  
End part 2  
  
Review responses:  
  
Merlraven: Thank you. I shall do my best to raise to your expectations, my lady. *bows and kisses Merlraven's hand*  
  
Grumpy: *giggles at screen name like idiot* Oh, and the words... Well Aragorn's a bit of a smart ass. Dunno how well that'd work for the king but... I like it. Cheeky!Aragorn *g* Thanks, lovely.  
  
Jadelyn Rashwe: *bows* This is actually... huh... my first attempt at a somewhat light-hearted fic. Plus, it's the first time I manage to down my rating to something acceptable to ff.net's standards. So I'm hoping I'll be able to keep it somewhat light, but I gotta make my readers think. It's my trademark. *bg*  
  
Dshael: More, yes. Not done yet though. I have this thing about endings... *looks around innocently* thanks for the com though.  
  
Rainydayz: HA! You know I stared at that part of the story like an idiot, refusing to believe that I'd written het? And romance to top it off. In fact, now that you mention it, I think I'm going to go stare at it some more in disbelief. *g* thanks Chiquita. Glad you enjoyed yourself.  
  
Estelcontar: *g* I love you. Really. I do. It's very simple and clean: I love you. English isn't my native language, but I've been involved in fanfic since I was 14. I like to think I no longer need to mention that French is my first language before publishing a fic. I'm glad the language farts I have are kept mostly to myself. But without a beta, you may encounter strange wording and others. Please feel free to tell me! As for the unorthodox Aragorn, well what I call orthodox is what the writers of the fandom have made of the character. A dependant Aragorn who I don't think could survive on his own in the wild for more than a week. Always needing the help of the elves to get by. And that, frankly, makes me twitch. Read my bio about this bit, 'cause I could rant a lot here. *g* I'm a lengthy gal. There is one thing however. I read a fic with Aragorn where he was forced to kill someone in self-defence and didn't beat himself up over it for years. I was in shock. *g* It shouldn't be too long for the updates, but I've been stuck for the past two days. I think two days is my top limit before I blow up and do something drastic about it. Not sure whether the readers like that though. *g* 


	3. Rocks and Despair

Alright, this is very short, I'm aware of it, and I apologise. It's not usual for me to be so stuck on a story. But don't worry, we'll get there. In fair warning though, this chapter, however short it may be is quite evil *g* The end of it that is.  
  
Also, very sorry for the fact that I'm STILL taking some things for granted in the fanfiction world, I meant for this to be almost completely original but some notions are peeking back in my brain. I've got one word for you. Twins.  
  
Damn them.  
  
For full disclaimer, please check chapter one.  
  
*******************  
  
Another Look  
  
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Aragorn pulled himself on the lowest branch and hurriedly grabbed the next one. He knew the exertion wasn't helping his wounds any, but he simply gritted his teeth and ignored the pain, telling himself there would be time enough to care for them later.  
  
With a steadying breath, Aragorn started the climb to reach the pile of rocks sitting on top of the cave, waiting to be pushed down.  
  
The problem with spiders, Aragorn mused, is that they can climb as well as any elf. He kicked out bellow him, sending the spider reaching for him to the ground. They were already moving in after him and he knew he had very little time to reach the cave-top.  
  
Spiders... faster than orcs.  
  
Definetely.  
  
He climbed steadily, surprised that his body followed, clearing the spiders with a few kicks and some dirty fighting... Aragorn didn't think he could be blamed for using every means possible, be they disloyal, in his present situation. And so, he kicked, pierced eyes and pulled antennas when the spiders got too close.  
  
He managed to make his way up, enough so that he could feel victory in his blood. The cave-top was within sight, he could reach it and make it crumble should he extend his arm and gather enough strength to knock some of the bottom stones away.  
  
He reached out, touching stone, searching for an opportunity. He noticed for the first time the nasty burn upon it as he searched for purchase on the rocks. As a healer, he knew this meant his body was overcompensating, making him immune to pain and exhaustion for a limited period of time. Limited being the key word.  
  
Just as he thought this, his vision narrowed, black spots dancing in his eyes, leaving only the centre clear. His hearing started to tune out, muting the spiders' shrieking as though they were far away while in truth, they were mere feet below him.  
  
Not now. Valar, please not now.  
  
His right hand, which was supporting him on the tree and helping him lean over to the cave, loosened up slowly on its own. Aragorn's head was spinning badly and his hold diminishing, but he would not let himself lose consciousness. He somehow managed to tighten his hand upon the tree and once again extended his arm towards the rocks. He cursed as the burnt part of it rubbed against stone, realising with this that he would soon have to count with the pain he knew would come from generally every part of his body.  
  
But not before he took those damn spiders with him.  
  
He succeeded in knocking away some of the stones, but nothing that would make the other rocks piled up on top crumble.  
  
He suddenly had the thought that, should he succeed, the rocks could still crumble on _him_ if he wasn't fast enough.  
  
A smile and a chuckle made their way past Aragorn's lips. Only thing that would make sense really, with his luck. Get himself buried under a big pile of rock. He wondered which of his brothers would win the bet.  
  
Elrohir had bet on a cliff, Elladan on Spiders.  
  
How would they settle that?  
  
Another chuckle and he realised that he was slowly becoming hysteric. He stopped the reaction immediately, iron will conquering the mounting hysteria with no more than a thought.  
  
*You will NOT.*  
  
As he regained control on himself, he realised that he had found the weak point of the rock pile. It was there. The stone that would save his life. He pushed on it, hard as he could, moving it some, but it wasn't enough.  
  
He strained to push a second time when suddenly, a spider grabbed onto his leg and pulled Aragorn down, making him lose whatever weakened hold he had on the tree, the rocks, and any hope he may have left.  
  
End Part 3  
  
Review Responses:  
  
Dshael: You know, I kept wondering where I'd seen your name before. And then I realised. 'The Middle Days' Ring any bell? Wanna help me hunt down the Eugenides? *hands gun and rope* *g* Oh, and I'm on a favourites list! Thanks. *bows*  
  
Leggylover03: Yes, yes I believe it IS always good. Hell... what am I saying? I'm making the poor man suffer! *glances at Aragorn* bah. He can take it.  
  
Jadelyn Rashwe: 'Lean on me' correct? *pats self on back* I seem to remember everyone today! Lovely stories and lovely concept as well. I like the writing a lot. And I'm glad you appreciate mine! *bg*  
  
Mbali: Legolas... I have issues with Legolas. I seriously wondered whether I would use him or not, simply because when writing a friendship story in LOTR with Aragorn, Legolas is the one who'll ALWAYS be there. *g* I don't really like walking in other people's paths. But I also decided I was only going to characterize him as I saw him. And it makes me glad that you see him that way at all. I was afraid I'd be the only one!  
  
Estelcontar: I think I'll always wait till the end to answer your coms. Keep the best for last, nay? Here's a little spoiler for you... In 'Another Look' the point is to get Aragorn in as much trouble as he can get, and have him get himself out of it. I WILL NOT use Legolas to save him. I simply refuse to consider the option. He might be helpful, but he shall not save the day as he always does. Which I'm afraid is going to take my popularity down some! Gandalf says something about Aragorn being the best traveler and woodsman of our age, or it's in the same spirit anyway. Definitely not a weakling. I'm mixing up the movieverse with my bookverse characterizations. Must be some sort of crime. *g* I'm not sure whether I'd use the term 'wimp' for the other stories... but hell, it's as close as we're gonna get! *g*  
  
There will be another, longer chapter within two days time, hopefully. However, you must take into account the fact that I am starting Uni again, and that I'm a very busy bee.  
  
And YOU! *points at Aragorn-muse lying on the grass near a river, staring at the moon* Could be more helpful.  
  
Aragorn-muse: Do you SEE what you put me through? You want me to HELP?  
  
Wolf: *thinks* huh... yeah.  
  
Aragorn muse: *heavy sigh* Why do I put up with you?  
  
Wolf: Because you love me. And if you don't I'm going to torture you.  
  
Aragorn-muse: Oh that's a big threat. You do know that I'm about to fall off a tree, from a rather high branch, with a wounded leg, torso, stomach, a burned hand and freaking spider venom in my body? What more can you do?  
  
Wolf: *evil grin*  
  
Aragorn-muse: Shit. 


	4. Down and Up the Tree

Hello everyone! Chapter 4 now! I took some liberties with it, some additional author's notes toward the end. This is... well, fresh out of my still unsaved word file. In other words, I didn't re-read it yet. So it might be rougher than usual. It's one AM right now, so I think I'll just correct it tomorrow... or rather, in a few hours. This is my first version. PLEASE be forgiving if you catch this version!  
  
For complete disclaimer, please check chapter 1.  
  
*********************  
  
Another Look  
  
*********************  
  
Aragorn's body spiralled down, gaining speed as it crashed towards the forest floor. The man had no time to thank his good star for the fact that he did not hit more than three or four small tree limbs on his descent before he landed. Luck was once again watching over Aragorn as he fell onto two of the spiders remaining on the floor.  
  
Even though the contact broke the fall, it did not make it painless. So much so that, as the man landed, he could barely gather the energy to realise that he had indeed fallen from the tree.  
  
His mind was sluggishly moving along to the realisation that he was back to where he started. With the spiders surrounding him, on ground level.  
  
He summoned enough strength to raise his head and look towards death instead of calmly accepting his fate. Clutching at the small knife, which he marvelled at not having lost, Aragorn swore he would not go without making the spiders think twice about capturing humans in the future.  
  
The two bodies beneath him were out of action, most probably dead. He could see... many spiders coming down from the tree, but he couldn't spare the energy to count them.  
  
They advanced towards him with the assurance of the victor, certain that there would be no more resistance. Before they could come close however, one of them stopped and murmured a word. In seconds, the rest of the group was repeating it, fear and anger tainting the word. Beleglöké. The Mighty Serpent.  
  
Aragorn had only ever heard of them. They were a race of giant lizards which had migrated from the south. His mind sought to remember more detail even as the spiders gradually deserted the clearing, shrieking with fearful defiance.  
  
Unique lizards because their... their legs were situated under the body. More speed and agility than a normal human being. Intelligent enough to speak common. Articulated claws. Main food source... arachnids, humanoids.  
  
He also remembered how unusual it was to see one so far up north of Mirkwood, their skins were quite sensitive to the cold.  
  
With a sigh, Aragorn realised that he was probably in deeper trouble than with the spiders.  
  
He took a deep breath to calm himself and assess his condition. He probably couldn't walk on his left leg, the pain there intense and focused. His left hand throbbed and his stomach wound was bleeding again. There was a laceration on his arm and one across his chest. He couldn't remember when or where he'd gotten them.  
  
The man knew he didn't have much time before the predator came into the clearing, attracted by the smell of blood and the sound of the spiders' departure.  
  
His left shoulder was bruised and difficult to even think of moving. Aragorn understood that he had probably landed on it.  
  
He put the small knife down to his right and managed to tear off a piece of his tunic which he wrapped tightly around his burned left hand. He could move the arm, but only barely. There was no real strength behind any of the movements he could achieve with it.  
  
He heard the steady walk of a four-legged being threading towards his position. The rest would have to wait.  
  
Aragorn opened his eyes wide, absorbing as much of the light as possible, trying to keep the exhaustion and the pain at bay.  
  
His options were to either fight, which he knew would lead to his eventual death, to take flight, and he understood that he wouldn't go far in this state, or to hide.  
  
He looked around himself and all he could see was the entry to the cave and the trees surrounding him. On one hand, he wasn't sure he could gather enough energy to climb up a tree, and on the other, he knew hiding in a cave was probably the dumbest thing one could do. No escape route, easily trapped and overtaken.  
  
If only Gandalf were there. Or Legolas. Or even his overprotective brothers... He slowly made his way to a standing position, knowing his thoughts futile and ridiculous. He would always wish for help, but always ended up alone. At least, he thought, it teaches me self-sufficiency!  
  
The sounds were closer now, within hearing distance of a normal human being. Close. Too close.  
  
A Beleglöké is no mindless spider.  
  
Aragorn took hold of the same tree limb he'd started climbing a few moments ago and tried to raise his body. He cursed when he found himself unable to do so, his limbs too heavy and clumsy.  
  
Now was NOT the time for his body to finish giving up.  
  
He reaffirmed his hold on the branch and, using his good leg to propel himself from the trunk, managed to haul himself on top of it. Good. Just a few more now.  
  
With a chuckle, the man realised that he was patronising himself. Another thing to make his foster family doubt his sanity.  
  
He managed to get about 15 feet from the ground before the Beleglöké made its appearance bellow him.  
  
It was much bigger than he had anticipated. At least as tall as he and a good 10 feet long. He stopped moving, stopped breathing, hoping against hope that the creature wouldn't smell him.  
  
Its eyes were yellow and radiated malevolent intelligence. Teeth the size of Aragorn's small dagger adorned its mouth. Its tail was long and seemed to have a life of its own as it moved around to counterbalance the creature's weight. The scales were green and brown, making for easy camouflage in the forest. It seemed made for lethal speed, its elongated body somewhat slim and unresisting to the air, yet strong and dangerously accurate.  
  
Aragorn doubted he'd ever seen any creature look more threatening than this one, although he was pretty sure he'd met more dangerous... while at full health.  
  
He watched it and realised that this Beleglöké wasn't hunting. It would have been more aware, more alert. It seemed to walk lazily, not bothering to thread stealthily or nearly fast enough. Aragorn kept a wary eye on the creature as he relaxed his body to avoid muscle cramps and slowly, noiselessly extended his body on the tree limb. Getting as comfortable as possible.  
  
A sudden flurry of movement almost had the man jump and fall from the tree, but he was too well-trained to jump in any other way than mentally.  
  
The beleglöké had moved so fast Aragorn had barely seen it. It had snatched a lingering spider before Aragorn could tell it was there.  
  
Maybe the creature WAS hunting.  
  
With a few snaps of teeth, the spider was crushed and devoured.  
  
The man couldn't restrain a somewhat satisfied smile as he heard the noises from the beleglöké's feeding.  
  
He seemed to have been unnoticed till now, and he only hoped it would remain that way. The beleglöké raised its head as he thought this and Aragorn held his breath and waited warily to see if the beast had heard his thoughts.  
  
With a last bite of teeth, the beleglöké turned around and exited the clearing. The relief had Aragorn's vision clouding over once again, and this time, he simply laid his head on the tree limb, waiting the end of the dizzy spell.  
  
When his head cleared, he cursed at the realisation that, though the immediate danger was past, he was still in an unknown corner of Mirkwood, lost, wounded, and in the bad company of one of the most dangerous predators in middle-earth.  
  
End part 4  
  
A/N: The creature. My own invention although I think if I had researched more deeply, I wouldn't have had to create one. It was great fun creating it and designing it anyway... I must thank Laura for her help in finding the name and certain ideas for the creature in question. For those of you who may need a more complete mental picture of it, think of it as a dinosaur-like type of lizard. A bit like a Velociraptor with four-legged capacity. It's how I think of it anyway. *g* Beleg: Mighty Löké: Serpent/snake  
  
Review responses:  
  
Leggylover03: That's right, where IS Legolas? *g* he should be there, shouldn't he? I mean, leaving Strider to this... creature. Mean. But hey, we should see him soon. *g* Dontcha worry about that. Thank you!  
  
Jadelyn Rashwe: Yeah, it was a cliffie... but look! *points at own ending* I made it up to you. Not a real EVIL cliffie. *g* *is proud of self* thanks Chiquita!  
  
Dshael: One: Haven't got a clue how that happened. Never touched the chapters after uploading them. Silly thing. *g* Two: That's one of the things that always fascinated me about Aragorn. His willpower. He's the King of Gondor, he's the one who really knows how to handle people. I thought he should handle himself before others. I'd handle him though... if he asked me. *g* Three: I miss that story, I miss the way she characterises the men. It's one of the few stories of the sort that I do appreciate. I'll poke her if you whip her into writing. *g* Four: I love you too. I can read Aragorn as the damsel, I mean, if I couldn't, I'd be dead from withdrawal. But it gets TIRING! So, got yourself kidnapped again, not gonna try to escape? Going to... wait for help. Yes. Of course. *g* Five: Wow, that's a really, really nice compliment, especially 'cause I was worried about that. I try not to add too much pre-knowledge so that I don't fall into patterns and roads previously explored. I'm glad it's something of a success... *bg* It's the most I'll get out of you? But. but. Alright then. *pouts* Thank you loveling. Muchly appreciated. *bows*  
  
Lady Cassandra Skywalker: Lemme guess, Star Wars fan? *bg* am very glad you're liking the story Chiquita! Legolas gets tortured plenty enough for my tastes! Time to see how Aragorn goes!  
  
Alright, updates. I really don't know when the next one will be but I expect it be rather soon as well. Tentatively scheduled within the next two days. 


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